


from beijing with love

by tadanoris



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, set around the cup of china eps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 16:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadanoris/pseuds/tadanoris
Summary: 季光虹 jì guānghóng (noun.)Chinese figure skater making his senior debut in the 2016/17 season.In love with American figure skater Leo de la Iglesia.Doing his best.used in a sentence: “It’s Guanghong’s first time competing in the senior circuit and even though he’s on the lowest step of the podium, it feels like he’s on top of the world.”





	from beijing with love

 

> **光 guāng (adjective.)**
> 
> _**bright; shining; brilliant** _

 

The lights in the ice rink are bright, but Guanghong’s smile is brighter. Brighter than the camera flashes going off in front of them, brighter than the bronze medal hanging around his neck, brighter than the sequins on Leo’s free skate costume.

It’s Guanghong’s first time competing in the senior circuit and even though he’s on the lowest step of the podium, it feels like he’s on top of the world.

His limbs are heavy, stretched out and exhausted, but his mind feels feather light. All the pre-competition jitters have long since been forgotten, melting away with the tension and adrenalin, and the only thought running through his mind is that he’s on the podium, with Leo next to him and a medal he can hold and show off.

He sees Coach You standing off to the side, arms crossed but with a proud smile on her face and Guanghong’s own smile widens. His cheeks are starting to hurt and he can feel a vague pricking sensation in his arms from having held the flag up for so long, but he doesn’t care. Nothing can stop him when he’s on the top of the world with his best friend.

Even through the press conference, Guanghong can’t help the jittery giddiness inside him, his legs constantly crossing and uncrossing beneath the table, but luckily it’s only Leo who notices it.

Perhaps Guanghong will look back on his answers one day and get embarrassed over how confident he had sounded, but in the moment, it’s fine. He answers the questions as well as he can, mostly in English and occasionally in Mandarin, speaking of his hard work and expectations and hopes.

“How will you prepare for the upcoming Cup of China?” A CCTV interviewer asks in Mandarin.

“I will continue working hard and practicing so that I will not make the same mistakes I did today.” The words escape him as if they have a mind of their own, like Guanghong doesn’t even have to think about his answer. Though Skate America was important for his career, officially marking his senior debut, the Cup of China was different in an entirely different way. It’s the competition he went to when he was younger, sitting among the audience with the rest of his skating club; it’s his country, _his_ competition. It’s where he’ll have the most supporters, where he’ll be surrounded by banners with his name written on them.

All eyes will be on him.

“I want to show people that I really can be the ace of China. I have every intention of winning and advancing to the finale so I can represent my country.”

The interviewer looks satisfied. “That’s an awful lot of pressure you’re putting on yourself,” she says.

Perhaps it is, but then again, what skater doesn’t have an immense amount of pressure weighing down on them? Guanghong is only one of many.

“I can handle it,” Guanghong smiles.

When the next interviewer asks a question directed at Otabek, Leo takes a moment to look over at Guanghong and give him a kind smile. There’s something in Leo’s smile that almost makes Guanghong believe Leo had understood that exchange in Mandarin, but that’s just how Leo is. He supports Guanghong no matter what, warm and bright, and now also a gold medalist. Guanghong couldn’t be prouder.

The press conference eventually comes to an end and they retire to their hotel rooms to rest and freshen up.

“Otabek said he wants to chill in his room before the banquet, but he’ll try to join us for breakfast tomorrow,” Leo tells Guanghong once they’ve met up in the lobby. A small, guilty part of Guanghong is glad Otabek won’t be joining them, not because he has anything against him, but just because he doesn’t know him nearly as well as Leo does-- nor does Guanghong possess Leo’s ability to effortlessly befriend anyone he says hello to.

But Guanghong is trying. Both Phichit and Leo have helped greatly in pushing him to socialize with new people, but maybe Otabek can wait for tomorrow.

Leo wraps an arm around Guanghong’s shoulders and leads them out into the crisp autumn night. “Now! Let’s go celebrate! We can go anywhere-- as long as it’s within a ten minute walk of the hotel.”

“The world is our oyster,” says Guanghong, trying to use one of the many English idioms he’s learned but rarely bothers to use. His voice doesn’t quite match Leo’s enthusiasm, but his smile is no less bright.

“Exactly!” Leo’s grin only widens and he gives Guanghong’s shoulder a squeeze. Butterflies flutter in his chest and he can’t stop himself from gazing up at Leo. It’s like he’s glowing, like the gold medal had left its shine on him. “We don’t have much time before the banquet, so we’ll probably have to leave the actual city exploring for tomorrow. Your flight isn’t until late in the evening, right?”

Guanghong nods. “We leave for the airport at 8pm.”

“Okay, perfect. We can just walk around the city before that then. But for now--” Leo points over at a restaurant sign further down the street. “You ever heard of deep dish pizza?”

 

  
...

 

 

>   
>  **光 guāng (when used with a verb.)**
> 
> _**all gone; used up; nothing left** _

 

And even after swearing to do his best, even after actually _doing_ his best, Guanghong places fifth at the Cup of China.

In an ice rink filled with Chinese supporters packing away their flags and banners, Guanghong sits on the sidelines as he watches Phichit, Yuuri and Chris receive their medals.

Guanghong’s not so cruel that he thinks the medals are undeserved, and he’s more than proud of Phichit for winning gold.

But it hurts, sitting next to Leo on a bench in the locker rooms, the two of them leaning on each other. Fifth place and sixth place. No medals, no press conference, no Grand Prix finale for either of them.

Guanghong really had done his best. He had given his all, and perhaps that’s why it really hurts so much-- because even at his best, Guanghong had only placed fifth. There’s no energy left, no part of him that wasn’t put into those performances.

Disappointed sighs echo in his mind as he continues to delete some of the tweets he had put out before the competition.

“Don’t do that,” Leo says, placing one warm hand atop Guanghong’s fingers.

“It’s embarrassing,” Guanghong replies but he doesn’t move away. His gaze remains on the screen, almost glaring at the few words he can see between their fingers.

“It’s not.”

“It is.

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“It is.”

Guanghong pauses, looking up at Leo. “That only works in cartoons.”

Leo manages a small smile. “Worth a shot.”

Right now, when he’s just fallen from the top of the world and down into a pit of shame and disappointment, Leo’s smile is the one thing that can make Guanghong smile.

Silence envelopes them yet again, but it’s not uncomfortable. The shared sadness in the air hangs heavy over them, but Leo’s comfort feels like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

It would be so easy to just sit and mope here. Guanghong had shed a couple of tears earlier, he knows they can easily fill his eyes again if he thinks about the loss too much. He knows that Leo will try to comfort him if he does cry, despite having placed even lower than Guanghong, because he knows how much this had meant to him. Leo had won gold in his country, Guanghong was supposed to be next and at least _medal_ at the Cup of China.

But instead there’s nothing but newly formed bruises and a message from his coach telling him that he had done well even if he hadn’t won. _You’ll do better next time. We’ll keep training._

And Guanghong has to believe that. He has to hold on to the fact that he can work hard and do better next time. Giving up isn’t an option. He’ll get up to the podium no matter what.

Guanghong slowly pushes himself up to stand and holds a hand out for Leo to take. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” There’s uncertainty lingering in Leo’s features but he takes the offered hand and stands up.

“I don’t want to sit here and be sad.”

They pick up their stuff before Guanghong leads them out the exit at the back of the building, leaving his bike there for now. He doesn’t want to deal with more interviewers and he’s sure Leo shares that sentiment.

There’s still the banquet left, and though Guanghong (mostly) intends on attending it, he’s sure his coach will forgive him and Leo if they’re late-- which they very well might end up being, since they end up taking the subway and going further away than intended. Guanghong isn’t even sure where he’s leading them to, he just knows he wants to get away from anything related to the competition right now, just for a brief moment.

Leo just understands, like he always does. He wears that understanding smile, quiet as he blindly follows Guanghong, sticking close to his side and occasionally brushing their hands together. Guanghong finally grabs Leo’s hand so he can lead them off the subway and out of the station, emerging close by a cluster of malls. It’s a fairly busy area, so Guanghong walks them away from the worst crowds, to a small park nestled between all the busy roads and skyscrapers.

They sit down on a flight of broad stairs leading to one of the malls, neatly trimmed bushes on either sides of them. The air around them is sweet with the scent of Taiwanese sausages and tanghulu being sold by street vendors, faraway voices melting into the white noise from the cars. It’s like everything is so noisy it becomes a kind of silence, monotone and even, the kind of loud silence Guanghong recognizes from every big city he’s been to. It doesn’t matter if he’s in Chicago or Tokyo or Beijing, somehow it all feels familiar.

Even this close to the hustle and bustle of the city center, Guanghong feels calm.

Having Leo next to him, holding his hand, helps a lot too.

Leo is the first to break the silence. “I have no idea where we are.”

Guanghong breathes a quiet chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not that far away from the hotel.”

Leo is silent for a couple of seconds before he asks, “Do you come here often?”

“Not really. I’ve only been here once or twice.” The park is nothing special, barely big enough to be called a park, but there’s something about having a patch of green between all the busyness that Guanghong finds oddly comforting. It’s a nice place to sit down and think, breathe in cold autumn air that smells more of food than exhaust.

Between all the buildings that stretch up to the sky, Guanghong allows himself to just exist. He doesn’t think too hard about anything, he lets images of disappointed expressions and low scores drift up and away, until they’re nothing but barely visible stars in the night sky. He lets Leo’s warmth seep into his side, through layers fabric and skin, into his heart, where something, a feeling that has been there for a long time, stirs to life again.

Right now, there’s nothing to accomplish, nothing to pay attention to except each other. For a brief moment, it’s almost as if the competition has never happened.

But their lowered gazes and sore muscles are proof of what they had done and what they hadn’t achieved.

Guanghong feels small, but it’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling. He just exists, pressure and expectations momentarily lifted from his shoulders.

“There’s still next time.”

 

  
...

 

 

>   
>  **虹hóng (noun.)**  
>  _**rainbow** _

 

Perhaps it would be cliche to describe Leo that way, to compare him to a stretch of colors decorating the sky, but if the Cup of China provided the rain, Leo was both the sun and the rainbow.

With neither of them going to the Grand Prix finale, things slow down for just a little while. The season isn’t over just yet with Four Continents and Worlds around the corner, but their coaches allow them a moment to catch their breaths after the Cup of China.

Leo somehow manages to convince his coach into letting him stay for a couple of more days so he and Guanghong can actually hang out for the sake of hanging out.

Guanghong was grateful he had gotten to compete in the same event as Leo twice, but seeing each other without having to worry about official practices or interviews feels completely different. This feels different too, with the losses still hanging over them, but they manage. Holding hands helps a lot and Guanghong hopes it’s a habit they’ll continue even when this year’s Cup of China is nothing but a memory, no more painful than a healing bruise.

They spend almost an entire day in Guanghong’s apartment, only going outside once to wander around the neighborhood and eventually buy bubbletea at two of the four different bubbletea places in the near vicinity. They walk back to the apartment just in time to see one of the neighbors walking their dog, a toy poodle dressed in a worn-out changshan, who looks almost as old as the neighbor himself.

The rest of the evening is spent making pizza from scratch and watching movies, until Leo digs up Guanghong’s old keyboard and plays Still Alive while Guanghong raps a performance worthy of _The Rap of China._

They pass time by talking and laughing and teasing each other, conversations they will have forgotten by next month, but right now, they mean everything. They’re the kind of moments Guanghong will miss when they’re apart again, forced to communicate through low quality video calls.

“Can’t you just stay here forever?” Guanghong asks once they’ve changed into sleepwear and the lights have been switched off. Leo’s on a spare mattress on the floor (on his own insistence because he refused to take Guanghong’s bed from him), but Guanghong can still see the light from Leo’s phone.

“I wish,” says Leo, voice colored by quiet laughter. “But I think my mom might get pissed if I don’t go back to clean the windows like I promised.”

“Angelina can do it for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my 9 year old little sister would do a great job.”

“Might even do it better than you.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds again before Leo says, with a smile in his voice, “I really do wish I could stay longer though.”

Guanghong stares up at the ceiling, at the soft glow from Leo’s phone. A confession dances on his tongue but Guanghong’s not ready to set it free just yet. “Yeah,” is all he says instead, and the conversation dies out.

 

  
...

 

 

 

> **季 jì (noun.)**  
>  **season**

 

The last day before Leo’s flight is spent walking around _nanluoguxiang_ , eating snacks that probably aren’t suited for an athlete’s diet, but Guanghong figures they’re allowed a couple of cheat days.

(But Guanghong had also eaten a jianbing the day before the Cup of China, so it’s not like he’s ever really paid much attention to his diet.)

In the cold November air of Beijing, the warmth of the red bean soup seeping through their gloves, Leo and Guanghong stand side by side beneath a hazy pink sky. There are people all around them, groups of friends and couples and tourists buying souvenirs, but no one pays any attention to them. Guanghong has always appreciated that-- no matter how crowded the city is, no matter how loud and energetic it is, private moments like these are still possible. No one cares that Leo and Guanghong are standing so close to each other, sharing bright laughs and tender smiles.

Everyone around them is living in their own little bubble as well.

They wander, past the drum tower and all the loud men offering rickshaw rides, until they reach a quiet hutong. When they’ve both finished the soups, Guanghong buys them Beijing yogurt despite Leo’s protests.

“You’ve bought way too much food for me the past few days,” Leo says with an exasperated yet fond smile as he accepts the offered bottle and straw.

“You said it yourself, you wanted to taste authentic Chinese snacks.” Guanghong looks satisfied with himself as he pierces the straw through the thin paper lid of the yogurt.

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t mean that you had to _pay_ for all of it. You even paid for dinner when we went out with Phichit and Yuuri, and that was a _lot_ of food.”

“I wanted to,” is all Guanghong says by way of explanation. “You’re visiting my city, it only makes sense that I treat you.”

Leo looks like he’s about to protest again, but he stops himself with a smile, before taking a sip of the yogurt. “Fine, but I hope you know this means I’m gonna have to spoil you when you come to the US again.”

“You and your family already do that.” He’s met Leo’s family a handful of times now, and Guanghong’s grateful that they seem to like him. Angelina was a particularly big fan, almost clinging to Guanghong until either Leo or their mother told her to leave Guanghong alone.

“We’ll step up our game next time,” says Leo and Guanghong loves that there even is a next time. He’s been going to the US for summer training camps several years now, and he owes his close friendship with Leo and Phichit to those summers.

“It’s still pretty far away,” Guanghong comments as he leads them to a couple of benches at the outskirts of a park.

“Yeah, but we’ll still meet before then. This season isn’t over yet.”

The wind carries with it old tunes from nearby speakers, and Guanghong vaguely recognizes it as a lovesong his mother would listen to in his childhood home. Through a couple of trees, they can see an open clearing filled with elderly couples dancing together. Some of them seem to have some kind of choreography going, while others look only at each other, paying attention to nothing but their partner and the music as they sway around the area.

Leo’s smile doesn’t go unnoticed as they spend a moment of silence just watching.

“Can anyone who wants to join in?” Leo asks once his yogurt is near empty.

Guanghong nods. “Yeah, but usually only people above the age of like... sixty.”

“Is that a rule?”

“An unspoken one.”

Leo’s smile widens and Guanghong grows suspicious at the questioning, eyes narrowing.

“So that means we’re allowed to join, right?” Leo asks.

“We’re not sixty years old.”

“But we’re still _allowed_ to join, right?”

Guanghong makes the mistake of hesitating for a second too long. Leo takes that as a yes to his question and he’s quick to stand, one hand wrapped around Guanghong’s wrist while the other is still holding onto the yogurt.

“May I have this dance?” Leo asks and it’s impossible for Guanghong not to smile when Leo looks both ridiculous and handsome.

“Leo...” Guanghong starts, trying to imagine if the embarrassment really will be worth it, but then Leo makes the choice for him by giving Guanghong his best puppy eye stare, now definitely looking ridiculous enough to make Guanghong laugh. “Okay, okay,” he relents at last, immediately getting pulled up Leo, the movement so sudden he briefly crashes into Leo’s chest.

Leo laughs and apologizes, and takes Guanghong’s bottle so he can throw their trash into a trashcan they pass by.

Guanghong can already feel a couple of curious gazes on them as they stand at the edges of the open area, but most of the people there are too busy dancing to care much about Guanghong and Leo. No one recognizes them, no one knows that they’re world class figure skaters who had just competed in the Grand Prix series. To everyone else, they’re just a couple of teenagers watching old people dance in a park.

A new song starts playing, definitely from the same decade as the last one, definitely another sappy lovesong Guanghong’s mom has listened to.

Leo moves his hand from Guanghong’s wrist to hold his hand, pulling him towards the dancing couples, gentle enough to give Guanghong the chance to back out if he really wishes to. And if this had been anyone else, he probably would have.

But because it’s Leo, Guanghong allows it, cheeks warm and pink as he smiles at Leo, who leads the dance. They’re mostly just swaying like everyone else, like the awkward prom dance Guanghong has never experienced, and the thought makes him chuckle.

Leo curiously raises an eyebrow.

“It’s like we’re at prom for old people,” Guanghong says quietly, even though he’s pretty sure no one around them knows enough English to understand his words.

Leo snorts a laugh but his amused smile tells Guanghong that he agrees. Somehow Leo takes this to mean that he needs to complicate their steps a little, leading them further out of the shadows and closer to the others.

The speed of the music picks up and so do their steps, and Guanghong tries his best to follow whatever dance moves Leo is making up on the spot. This time, the strangers around them do pay attention to them, smiling and even pausing their own dancing to watch. It’s not that Leo and Guanghong’s dancing is particularly impressive, but it must be odd to see such an young couple join them, and even rarer to see a foreigner there.

Leo only smiles back at them, thriving under the attention as always, but he makes sure to keep most of his focus on Guanghong, who smiles back.

Even after the sun has gone down, a dark, starless expanse having replaced the previous powder pink sky, Guanghong doesn’t feel cold. He feels warm from the red bean soup and the smiles from strangers and Leo’s arms around him.

But most of all, he feels warm because Leo is looking at him with a smile sweeter than any of the desserts they’ve had today, brighter than the lights at the ice rink.

Three words come to mind, but again, Guanghong keeps silent. This isn’t the time, not yet. Maybe when the season’s over and the winter has turned to spring, maybe then. Maybe when he can tell Leo that his bright smile is like the rainbow after heavy rain, maybe then he’ll have the guts to tell him how he feels.

But for now, this is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> this was actually an idea i had for a guanghong birthday fic way back in january oops,, i tried to cram in many of my own experiences from beijing into this fic, but pls take it with a grain of salt lol i was only there for five months and experienced it all from a foreigners pov
> 
> the red bean soup referred to in the fic is actually a red bean soup with tapioca, taro balls and grass jelly but i couldnt find a chinese name for it and its just Too Long in english so now its just. red bean soup
> 
> tanghulu is candied fruits and berries on a stick. the rap of china is a tv show about...ppl rapping. beijing yogurt is sold everywhere on the streets in cute lil bottles. hutongs are like small, old neighborhoods consisting of really narrow streets. and yes there are bubbletea shops at like every street corner. 
> 
> if there are any inaccuracies in reference to skating related stuff im really sorry, i have no idea how any of it works OTL
> 
> find me on twitter @ bibibingka !!


End file.
